


Maniac Prince

by Ran_E



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Mental Breakdown, One Shot, Pre-Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ran_E/pseuds/Ran_E
Summary: One of the many times in which the façade of a courteous prince broke and a boar shone through.
Kudos: 6





	Maniac Prince

It had all started when two brigands had tried to infiltrate Garret Mach Monastery via the Abyss below. That had been attempted so many times before, but there was a difference in this case. Those two brigands had gotten way too close to their goal. They had actually reached the student dormitory, their goal being having the grandiose opportunity to rob very valuable items from the nobles attending the academy.

Dealing with nobles was risky, they knew that, they really did, but they had to. Living on the streets with no stable income with a family was hard and led to an impossible life centered around their own survival and conquests. This life, this _system_ , was flawed and thanks to it they were at the very bottom.

So they tried to break into Garreg Mach. That was their first mistake. The second one had been entering not just a noble’s quarters, but a prince’s.

Their third mistake was not running away when they had the chance.

The prince silently but harshly gripped their wrists with his left hand and, with his right hand he muffled their mouths as to not wake up the other students residing in the dormitory. The man was very intimidating in length and taking two brigands with just two hands was easy for him.

Dimitri took them to a certain area in the monastery that no one visited at night and not a lot of people knew about anyway. When they had arrived, he tied them to a nearby lantern, making escape impossible.

“So,” Dimitri started. The brigands did not realize at first that the prince might have been a tad different than what had been described before. The way he talked to them, now that they were in private, was very unsettling and definitely aroused suspicions from within. “You do know who I am, _right_?”

The bandits nodded. Making a move to escape now was not right. Killing, or even injuring, the prince was the right choice. It was not going to help their case. The best they could do was be obedient and listen to his words. If they just obeyed his orders, they might be able to get away fairly unscathed. Those were their best chances and they would take them as fast as they could. If they apologized and perhaps did some errands for the prince, all would be good, right? 

The so very benevolent prince of Faerghus would accept their apologies and spare them of any further punishments. There was no other way. If anything was going to happen, it wouldn’t be too harsh. They were almost sure of it. He was very calm and caring, the rumors said.

“Yes we do, Your Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.” In one single breath one of the bandits had stated the prince’s status and obligations. With this, he knew he had recognized and, most importantly, had shown that he knew he was in a lesser function than the other.

Very often servitude was the only thing saving a poor man from being trampled by the strong. He sure hoped that would save him in this situation too.

“You are correct, yes.” No other words were added.

Dimitri let out a very long breath and closer his eyes for a short while. The brigands could have taken this opportunity to attempt to overpower him, but tales of his inhuman strength had not reached even the filthiest of neighborhoods and the lowest of society. Tales of him using complete tree trunks in battle and breaking opponent’s swords with just his bare hands; no lance or any other weapon needed. He opened his eyes, his face void of any expressions. “But, now you must choose.”

That had brought up some question marks with the brigands. Dimitri’s lack of response to their own reactions revealed that we was not planning on continuing that sentence or even elaborating on it. What could he possibly mean by ‘Now you must choose’? What did he mean? Choose _what_?

Perhaps he meant that they should choose their allegiances and that they should join with them. That should have been a solid answer.

Another possibility was that they must choose their own punishment. It was a possibility they would pray for. And besides that, it would be very generous for them to be able to choose their own punishment. They could opt for a few years, yes, years, of weeding the monastery garden. It would be a relatively small price to pay for their own lives.

Another one of them decided to get it over with and just asked the prince himself directly outright what he meant instead of speculation on a _thousand_ different options.

“Your Highness, what do you propose we choose?” He asked. His sentence basked in overly-polite intonations coming from the dirty mouth of a filthy lowlife. If Dimitri was bothered by the almost sarcastic sounding question, he didn’t show it in any way. His mannerisms stayed the exact same.

The prince stealthily and silently looked around, almost as if he was trying _not_ to get noticed. As if _he_ was the brigand, stuck within the position they had been in a few minutes ago. A bit weird perhaps, but they were not in the position to question him in any way, so they stayed silent. Actually, why was he not accompanied by a retainer of any sort? Nobility often had retainers to, so surely a _prince_ should have at least a few too?

“Burn, slash, break your neck...” he muttered, almost too silently for them to hear, but they definitely heard. The both of them had. None of the brigands knew if he had done this intentionally or not, but either option would have been very alarming.

They broke out in a cold sweat, no exceptions.

A maniacal smile appeared on the face of the blond haired man. Any trace of the calm and levelheaded royal in front of them had disappeared the moment his facial expression changed. Within less than a second, his entire demeanor had shifted, just like that.

Dimitri took a javelin in his hands, gripping it tightly as if it was the only thing he trusted. He close to violently took it into his hands. His animalistic strength had been real, the handle of the weapon had been busted in his hand. Even if they hadn’t seen it happen with their own eyes, the sounds would have made it clear enough that that weapon had been broken at that _exact_ moment.

He took another big breath and with it, his laughter escaped his throat. With his eyes filled with despair, he asked the final question.

“Who dies first?”

**Author's Note:**

> And no one lived to tell the tale.  
> ___________________________
> 
> Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate it if you left your thoughts below in the comment section. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ___________________________
> 
> Also omg summer Lorenz in FeH I’m traumatized


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